Happy Together
by misscanteloupe
Summary: Not everyone gets the chance to watch their parents fall in love with each other. Or mothers, in Henry's case. Spoilers for 3x21/22. Swan Queen
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Happy Together

**Author: **misscanteloupe

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Not everyone gets the chance to watch their parents fall in love with each other. Or mothers, in Henry's case. Spoilers for 3x21/22. Swan Queen

**A/N: **Fucking hell, I was not planning on starting another story. But after reading all the spoilers for the epic fail of a finale, I can't help it.

Warning, I didn't watch it. I just know _of _it. Also warning, a lot of this takes place in Henry's perspective, but switches when the time is right. You'll see.

Unedited. Sorry. I'll do that later.

Also, hints of Captain Swan and Outlaw Queen throughout. Ye be warned.

* * *

Henry was the first to notice something was… _off _with both of his moms.

It was hard to tell with anyone else, because they were too busy celebrating Zelena's defeat to notice the odd shift – borderline _icy _– that had grown between the two women. Granted, there was also his new baby uncle to consider (which was still really weird to think about), and the fact that Emma had apparently returned from the past, only to be hanging around Hook all of a sudden, leaning in close like they were actually _together_ now.

Something everyone _definitely _noticed.

But it was even harder to miss the way his mother had looked at Robin Hood and the lady Henry had never seen before in his life. The way she looked at _Emma_, like she couldn't believe any of this was happening, whatever 'this' was; like the world was crumbling around her and it was a look he never wanted to see on his mom ever again.

She had fled the diner not too long afterward without a second glance back. Without a word to Henry that she was leaving, even though he'd been sleeping at their house ever since he regained his memories. And… that would leave him with the option of staying with his grandparents for the night.

That was one week ago.

Since then, he hadn't seen much of his mom. Or Emma, for that matter. She was always going from one place to another, running errands and making sure everything was back to normal, or as normal as a town like Storybrooke can be. And while Henry didn't mind _much_ –

He missed them both.

It was on a Monday night after a little over a week of not speaking to his adoptive mother that he suspected something was up.

They were having dinner without Snow and David, because the baby had been crying all afternoon and Emma vowed she'd be looking for an apartment for the both of them once things began to settle down. Henry didn't really care about looking for another place to live. He _had _a home, and that home involved the one person he couldn't stop thinking about for the last week. Although _Emma _was his home, too, and –

Yeah. Things were complicated.

He was sitting at the table, moving his peas around in his plate when he threw caution to the wind. "Have you seen my mom lately?"

Emma was startled. Her fork paused midway to her mouth before she furrowed her brows, dropping the utensil like it burned her.

"I… um…" she began, looking a little flustered and a whole lot paler than Henry remembered. It wasn't quite the reaction he'd been looking for, but it set his suspicions further into motion as he watched her with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Why?" Emma asked, unnerved, but she'd morphed her features back into this weirdly impassive façade before Henry could make out what that look meant. "Did you want to go see her?"

"Duh. She's my mom. Of course I want to go see her," Henry replied, and tried to ignore the hurt that crossed Emma's face for a moment. It wasn't like he'd meant for any of this to happen – the memories, the year in New York. He needed to find a way to fix this if there was any hope of _not_ reverting into the boy who might as well have two divorced – and highly dysfunctional – parents.

Like he wasn't too late for that already.

"It's just… she's been ignoring my calls," Henry explained sullenly, jabbing a fork into one of his peas. "And I haven't talked to her since that party at Granny's."

"Maybe she has a lot going on," Emma offered with a strained smile. It sounded strange, the way she said it. Henry tilted his head. "Did you try calling her today?"

"No," he denied, shaking his head. "You've been gone all day, remember? And I've been using _your_ phone."

At this, Emma pushed her plate away completely. Her face was ashen as she struggled to regain her composure, looking much like his mom did that day at the diner.

"Did something happen between you and mom?"

"What?" Emma said quickly. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you're both acting weird lately," Henry said with a shrug, and pushed his plate back beside Emma's. Suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore. "And I used your phone on purpose. She's not ignoring me. She's ignoring _you_."

"Henry –"

"No," he interrupted shrewdly, narrowing his eyes further in his best imitation of a glare. "You always do this. You always leave me out of things that I should know about. That's just as bad as lying!"

Emma stared at him for a long minute, her expression defeated and so unlike the stubbornness he'd come to know in the last two years. By this time she would've scolded him, told him he didn't _need_ to know everything, and demanded he eat the rest of his peas. Kind of like his mom. It was weird how scarily alike they could be sometimes.

But Emma didn't do any of these things, and Henry found he was disappointed. Because as much as he can sometimes hate Emma going all mom on him, this meant that he was right. Something _was _going on.

Before he could reconsider the possibilities, Emma stood up and headed for the living room.

"Where're you going?" Henry called out, and followed her out to the couch, where she sat with a phone in hand and a grim look in place. She was twirling the thing between her fingers, and Henry noticed it wasn't the same Android she'd acquired back in New York, but David's battered looking one he almost never used.

"I'm calling your mom," Emma insisted in determination. "I think it's about time she stopped blaming the world for one mistake."

_Mistake? _

"Wait, but ma –"

But Emma already had the device by her ear, gripping it so tightly between her fingers, it was a wonder how it didn't crumble in her grip. Henry waited with baited breath, listening to the soft dial tone coming from Emma's side of the couch and apprehensively wondering if this was even a good idea.

Finally, the ringing stopped, and he could hear his mom's voice filter in from the other line.

"_Charming, I don't know _how _you managed to acquire my number. For your sake, this better be important."_

"Regina," Emma interjected, sounding oddly small even in Henry's ears. "It's me. Emma."

Emma shifted then, moving the phone away from Henry's listening range until he couldn't hear a thing his mom said, if she was even saying anything. Judging by the way Emma was anxiously biting her lip, she was waiting, too.

"I – I know this isn't a good time –" Emma trailed off in a stutter, and closed her eyes with a silent sigh that had her shoulders dropping. "Regina. Please. Just give me a chance to –"

If it were possible, Emma grew even paler then. She rubbed her sweaty palm over a jean-clad thigh, tossing Henry a nervous glance and… sheesh. What he wouldn't give to know what his mom was saying.

"Henry misses you," Emma suddenly blurted out, before wincing. "No, I – he told me himself –"

Another pause. Another moment where Henry was sure all the blood had drained from Emma's face. She was squeezing the phone tighter now, until even her knuckles were just as white.

"Okay. I'll tell him," Emma breathed out after a lengthy silence. "But I… Regina?"

The arm Emma was using to hold the phone up to her ear fell back to her side, mimicking her shoulders as they dropped low in defeat. From this position, Henry could hear the dial tone continue on, signaling the end of the call and Emma's blatant disappointment.

"What did she say?" Henry hedged lightly, careful not to blurt out the rest of the questions he was dying to ask.

Emma looked up then, and he sucked in a sharp breath when he noticed her red-rimmed eyes pinning him with a sullen gaze. She attempted a smile as she stood from the couch, not that it made her look any less crestfallen.

"She said to meet her at Granny's tomorrow for breakfast," she explained, gazing at anything but Henry. "And you can stay at the mansion whenever you like."

Henry crinkled his nose. That was it? There's no way that could've been it. It almost sounded like they were fight –

"Emma?" he tried, but it was too late. Emma had already left for the kitchen.

The sound of dishes being put away reached his ears, urging him to sit back and stare at the phone Emma had abandoned on the table. This whole situation was even worse than he thought, if one phone conversation could bring Emma to the brink of tears. And Emma hardly _ever _cried, and definitely not for something his mom would say.

Unless it was something Emma _did_.

_I have to fix this_, he thought, and it was decided. He _was _going to fix this. He was going to figure out what happened to make his moms hate each other again, and he was going to fix it if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

The next morning went as it usually did. School had started up again yesterday, after a long hiatus and some safety issues that went along with all the villains that tended to show up in Storybrooke; Zelena, obviously, being the latest.

Now that the situation was mostly resolved, he could leave the apartment by himself nowadays, but _only _if he texted Snow beforehand.

_No excuses, young man._

He remembered to do so before meeting his mom at Granny's, using David's phone of all things, because he wasn't _quite _old enough to get his own just yet. Though he had a feeling that was going to change if his grandpa had anything to do about it.

His mom was sitting in her usual booth when he came in, the one somewhat hidden from the doorway, but easy to see when it was his mom he was staring at and… she didn't look like herself. She looked exhausted, subdued, like she hadn't seen daylight in weeks when, as far as Henry knew, it had only been a few days.

He strode up to the booth and sat across from her, relishing the way her face lit up a tad as she smiled at him with earnest affection.

"Henry," she greeted, her voice light. "I'm glad you came."

"Hey, mom," he smiled back, and didn't flinch when a warm hand came up to cup his cheek. She was gazing at him like she always did when she thought she was missing out on something, like he was growing up too fast. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, dear."

They ordered their meals and sat in companionable small talk for a while, and Henry took the silences in between to study his mother when she wasn't looking. He had never seen her look this worst for wear; her eyes were dull and sunken above dark circles, even when she smiled at him, and her face much thinner than he recalled it being.

He wanted to ask what was wrong. He wanted to know why she looked this _unhappy _and what did it have to do with Emma.

But he didn't, because that would mean mentioning Emma and judging by his mom's clear avoidance of the subject, he couldn't go that far. Not yet.

So he tried for something else. "How's Robin?"

She stopped dead in her tracks, her lips parting briefly with a faraway glint in her eyes, making it pretty obvious that it definitely _wasn't _the right thing to say. Henry could've slapped himself if he wasn't so bewildered by it all. The last time he had seen his mother's boyfriend – _ex? _– had been at the diner that night, accompanied by some woman that looked a little like Roland.

"I wouldn't know," his mom dimly said, a shadow crossing over her face, and it vaguely reminded Henry of all those times he had seen the Evil Queen rather than Regina.

And all of a sudden it made sense. At least the mysterious woman part, because Henry knew enough about fairy tales to _know _that Robin Hood had once been married. Widowed, actually, but married anyway to Maid Marion, and if she was back somehow –

He was about to probe his mom for more answers, only to squelch the question down when he saw she wasn't paying him any mind. Instead she was staring – no, _glaring _– across the diner, her demeanor stiff, vicious with the combination of hurt and pure, unadulterated anger.

It was sort of freaking Henry out, that is until he turned to see what his mom was looking at and nearly slumped into his booth.

Emma stood on the other side of the diner, leaning casually over the counter as she ordered what Henry could assume was her daily dose of coffee. To his surprise, though, she wasn't alone. Hook was at her side, gazing around the room in boredom, a hand placed across the back of his other mom's waist like it belonged there.

Henry shook his head. No. His mom and Hook?

That was just plain _weird._

Before he could wave Emma over, she turned from her own volition and spotted them. At first she tossed a smile at Henry, returning his wave with a small one of her own. But then she peered over to where his mom was sitting and froze.

Henry quickly glanced over to his mom and back to Emma, sensing the tension running high as they continued to stare at each other in some kind of stand-off. Emma's smile immediately wilted, uncomfortable and strangely hesitant as she deliberated what to do.

His mom's scowl, though, never left her face. If anything it worsened by each passing moment, like _she _was pondering the effects of tossing a massive fireball and burning the entire place to the ground. The bad thing was, Henry wouldn't put it past her.

He snuck a hand between them and placed it over his mom's trembling fingers, stopping them from doing anything drastic.

"Mom," Henry urged, officially catching her attention when she met his gaze.

She withdrew her hand and cleared her throat, contorting her features back to indifference. Not one drop of the rage he'd encountered was visible on his mom's face, but she always good at that. Hiding her emotions.

"I'm sorry, Henry," she said after a moment. "But I have to cut our breakfast meeting short. How would you like to stay with me for the rest of the week? I'm sure your… _mother _won't mind."

She said the word like it left a bad taste in her mouth, like there was nothing else that could've been worse than calling Emma his mother. It made Henry's suspicions grow tenfold and the caution he'd been harboring slip from his grasp.

"Uh… sure," Henry answered, unsure of what else to say. It was only fair. He _did _miss her, and it seemed like a really crappy thing to do to spend more time with one of them than the other.

His mom smiled warmly at him, running a hand through his hair before straightening it out. With one final affectionate glance, she left the diner, her back stiff and straight when she passed by Emma.

This was it. Talking and figuring things out wasn't going to work at this rate, not when extreme measures needed to be taken if he had any hope of getting his moms on friendly terms again.

He needed a plan B.

* * *

Emma wasn't too happy when Henry suggested he should stay with his mom for the rest of the week. She got this haunted look in her eyes when he mentioned it, or rather, mentioned how the meeting with Regina went. Actually, it didn't take long at all to convince Emma to let him go.

He spent that night in his old room, staying up late to plan the next several days, except there was nothing to work with. He had a general idea of why his mom had been so upset lately, but as far as Emma went, he still didn't have a clue what that was all about.

Maybe he didn't need to, though. Maybe all they needed was to talk to each other, listen and apologize and… whatever adults do to solve their problems. And to do that, maybe a little push would have to do.

He didn't know much about what his mom tended to do during the day. She wasn't the Mayor anymore, so crossed Town Hall from the extremely short places he had to work with. He _did _know that Emma took up the position as Sheriff again, and hung around the sheriff's department more often than not these days.

Hoping to all things nonmagical that this would work, he spent the rest of the night working on a text he'd end up sending to his mom the following morning – it should work extra well, considering he still had David's phone in hand – and finding a way to steal the keys Emma left lying around at home. She was going to need to them if she planned on opening up for her morning shift the next day, but afterward…

The idea worked accordingly overall.

He had to skip school in order to keep an eye on Emma, but she was forgetful anyway and, like he suspected, left the keys on her desk during her coffee break. It was worth all the hours of hiding behind a trash bin when he saw his mom striding in with her usual confident grace, unaware of the trap he had set up.

Despite the lingering bout of doubt swelling in his gut, Henry smirked in anticipation and watched as his mother glided in through the doors.

The feeling surged as he crawled up and, settling for the right key, locked the doors.

_Good_, he thought.

Now all he had to do was wait.

* * *

Regina was initially wary when she first entered the Sheriff's department. She didn't know what to expect when she'd received the message that morning, and truthfully it was beginning to grate on her nerves when she couldn't for the life of her escape these damned Charmings no matter how much she wanted to.

As long as she lived in Storybrooke and had her son, she was reliving her nightmare; a constant reminder of a family fated to destroy her.

As it was, the room was empty, all except for a coffee cup sitting on one of the desks. Where _was _the moron anyway? If this was all some foolish misunderstanding, she was going to –

"Regina?" She heard the footsteps before the voice settled in, and even then the dread tumbled down her stomach like a pile of bricks. Seeing Emma Swan again hadn't been on her list of goals for a very, very long time.

She walked in from the dingy office she'd been occupying, somehow managing to look both confused and every bit like a kicked puppy at the same time.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, and to Regina's relief, stayed several feet away.

She didn't know if she could stifle the rage dwelling inside her long enough to _not _throw the other woman through a window.

Sucking in a sharp breath, she swallowed against the anger pooling in her chest and haughtily declared, "Your idiot father told me to come in this morning for political guidance." She revealed the message on her phone before tersely adding, "Now the question is, what are _you _doing here?"

Emma's eyes seemed to flash in realization when she gazed at the message. She tightened her jaw, appearing deep in thought for a moment before she shook her head.

"My dad has the night shift all week," Emma explained, tentatively taking a step closer. "Robin was supposed to come in, but –"

And that was more than Regina needed to hear.

"Then I have no reason to be here," she gritted out, spinning on her heel and stalking back towards the doors. "I'll see my way out."

"Regina, wait –"

But when Regina tugged on the handle, the doors refused to budge. She tried again to no avail, focusing her entire weight on prying the door apart, only to step back in quiet rage.

"The door is locked," Regina said through clenched teeth, and felt the beginning remnants of her magic prickling at her fingertips.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?" Regina seethed and whirled around, forcing herself to stalk the short distance between them in long, measured strides. "The door. Is. Locked."

"That's not even possible," Emma countered, voice shaking at the proximity they were suddenly in. "The keys are –"

She reached for her desk, grabbing blindly for the set of keys she was so _sure _she had placed on the surface that morning, but they weren't there. Her eyes darted from one end of the desk to the other, fearfully seeking the clunk of metal that was nowhere to be found.

"Is this your idea of a _joke_?"

"No!" Emma hastily exclaimed, moving aside Regina and rushing forward to pull at the door's handles. She didn't put much effort into forcing them open, because unlike Regina, Emma knew for sure when a door had been locked from the outside.

And these doors? They were _definitely _locked from the outside. And considering Regina was led here by a message sent by her 'father,' all the clues were pointing to the same source.

She was going to strangle her kid.

"Move," she heard Regina say, before she shoved past Emma, shouldering her in the process, and raising her hands in a burst of white light.

"What're you doing?" Emma practically squeaked, taking a step back. "You can't just blast open the door!"

"And what the hell do you _expect _me to do, hm?" Regina hurled back, but she lowered her hands nonetheless. "Blast _you _through the door instead?"

"No, just –" Emma faltered, taking a deep, unsteady breath as she pushed aside any lasting guilt and said, "We can't keep going on like this, Regina. Whatever is going on between us, it needs to stop."

"_Don't_. You don't get to talk," Regina growled, her voice a foreboding rumble as she stalked towards her. "You don't get to say _anything_ after _what. You. Did_."

"I didn't know!" Emma argued and faltered once more when Regina drew closer, backing her into the wall. "Regina, I swear _I didn't know_. She was going to die and I had to –"

"Play hero?" Regina cut in, and all too soon Emma felt the effects of Regina's magic pulse inside her. It covered her skin from head to toe, pressing her back further against the wall and rendering her motionless. She was faintly aware of her feet dangling several inches from the ground, but she could hardly say anything about it when Regina was in front of her, her eyes glowing a frightening shade of purple as she drew even closer.

"I'm sorry –"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Regina sneered, her warm breath ghosting across Emma's face. "Because it doesn't. _You _did this! It will never cease to amaze me how pathetically _alike _you and your mother are! It's like you're both striving to destroy any chance of my happy ending –"

"I never meant –"

"Of course you didn't!" Regina snapped, and she was too close. Too _angry_. She felt her hand clamp around thin air, watching the results melt within Emma's frame as she squirmed against the pressure igniting in her chest. "Because you're the _savior_, and you can _do no wrong_. And yet you meddle with the past. You meddle with other people's lives and look where it's brought us! You should have let her _die _–"

"You don't mean that," Emma insisted surely, far too calmly for Regina's liking, and she was veering the pressure of her magic back over the woman's chest before she could stop herself. Emma gasped, but otherwise kept her eyes trained on Regina in an infuriatingly calm manner.

"I couldn't let her die," Emma breathed, wincing as the pain settled deeper into her chest. "And you know what I think? I think you – the Regina _I _know – wouldn't have let that happen either."

Regina's long stare drilled holes into Emma's face, her eyes burning so intensely, it was almost a surprise how she hadn't yet succumbed to the magical fury pulsating inside. It would be _so _easy to reach out into Emma's chest, and if fate would allow it, crush her beating heart like she should have done long ago.

But it was Emma's eyes that stopped her from even trying, bright green and full of this desperate… _longing _that Regina couldn't decipher. Longing for her to understand, perhaps? Either way it lit something anew in her heart. Her stomach flipped unpleasantly, her heart pounding urgently against her ribcage once she became aware of their close proximity.

They stood there for a few seconds, and it was so quiet in the room, Regina could very well hear Emma's own heart beating frantically against the palm of her hand. This time it didn't bring about the urge to yank it right out of Emma's chest.

She couldn't do it. Not when bright, green eyes were staring at her like _that_, and the sounds of their frantic heartbeats were barely muffled by their harsh breathing.

She could _never _do it.

The sorrow washed over her before she knew it, her magic slowly ebbing away until Emma was on her knees, coughing and sputtering as though she'd gone minutes without air.

"I trusted you," Regina whispered, strained and somewhat broken, much like the rest of her.

Her fingers glowed white just as the doors were flung open, the remaining bits of magic leaving her when she stalked out of the room, and unaware of the boy hiding behind the garbage bin, having listened to every word.

Henry cradled his face in his palms, waiting until the last of his mom's footsteps receded out of the building before standing up. He _really _hadn't anticipated _any _of that. It couldn't get much worse, could it?

"Henry."

He groaned.

_Oh, shit._


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Happy Together

**Author: **misscanteloupe

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Not everyone gets the chance to watch their parents fall in love with each other. Or mothers, in Henry's case. Spoilers for 3x21/22. Swan Queen

**A/N: **I was hoping to get this out within a few days after the last update, but I got frustrated and I'm not too fond of this chapter. So sorry if it seems out of place.

I'm going to try to update my other story before getting to the next chapter with this one. But this story is going to be short anyway. Like two more chapters, so no biggie.

Also, thank you to everyone who's reviewed or followed. I'd really like to know what you guys think.

* * *

Apparently Henry was grounded.

… Not that he even knew what constituted as being grounded. With his mom, he normally wasn't allowed to play video games or have dessert, or leave the house, even though he didn't technically have any friends to leave the house _for_.

But with Emma… Emma had never grounded him before. Except for that one time in New York when he had showed up late after school one day, only to find his mother waiting up _outside _their door, staring at him so sternly it could put his _mom's _glare down a peg or two.

But that didn't really count either, did it? When their memories were fake and all Emma had done was take away his allowance for the week and his TV privileges, _which _now that he thought about it, was a whole lot like what his mom would do.

But the Emma _now _was pacing the kitchen, clamping her hands into fists like she was trying hard not to yell at him. Henry would've been relieved with the attempt if this didn't creep him out even more.

"What were you even _thinking_?" Emma said after a good several minutes of pacing, before she turned to face him finally with that infamous glare that was _really _starting to remind him of his mom. Freaky. "Do you have any idea how badly this little plan of yours could've gone? If Regina hadn't been able to control her magic?"

"I was just trying to help," Henry mumbled, and _okay_. So maybe he did feel a little guilty about it, but that was only because he hadn't expected to see his mom pin Emma up against a wall.

In the past, totally. But she was different now, and Henry had grown up at least _somewhat _to know that his mom was still battling with some demons. Knowing that she was trying harder than ever was good enough for him.

"Henry," Emma sighed, and she seemed a lot less angry now. But she also sounded more exhausted than anything and the pacing had stopped. "The savior complex is rubbing off on you."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Henry piped in, hoping the topic would lead the conversation elsewhere. It wasn't lost on him that Emma hadn't completely meant it as a compliment, but the fact that he could feel his heart soar anyway told him otherwise.

Both his moms were heroes now. Maybe one day he he'll be following in their footsteps.

"Life isn't just black and white. Remember that," Emma explained, willing him to understand. And Henry did, of course. After everything he was starting to learn that there were shades of gray in most things, in goodness and what he'd once considered was evil.

Being a hero, though - what could possibly be hard to understand about that?

"What's going on between your mom and me… it's bigger than you," Emma continued absentmindedly.

Henry stared at her.

"Okay. So nothing is bigger than _you_," Emma corrected herself, tugging his head down by his mop of hair. Henry laughed and shoved her away. "But here's the thing. What's happening between Regina and I can't be fixed overnight. You can't just be snooping into things you don't understand."

"Like you did with the past?" Henry boldly pointed out.

Emma's brow furrowed. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough," he replied with a shrug, tapping his fingers over the table. "So, Robin Hood and Maid Marian, huh?"

It rattled him how ashamed Emma looked just then, before she said, "I wasn't going to let her die. Not when I could stop it."

"So why not help him and mom and get back together?" Henry offered, concealing the cringe threatening to surface over his face when he realized the thought didn't appeal to him too much. He had nothing against Robin Hood, but like Emma dating Hook, he couldn't shake off the feeling that they were going about this all wrong.

Still, if it meant seeing his mom happy…

Emma didn't look too keen on the idea either, if the paleness that had adorned her face was anything to go by. She appeared conflicted for a moment before shaking her head.

"No," she stated adamantly, not meeting Henry's eyes. "Bad idea. There's no way I'm taking the kid's mother away from him again."

Henry's forehead creased, his eyes narrowing slightly over Emma's still conflicted expression. "Are you sure that's it?"

Her eyes shot up in surprise. "What other reason would there be?"

And she looked genuinely confused, which bewildered Henry even more before he decided to toss the notion away altogether. Unlike Emma, his lie detector skills weren't as reliable, not that hers were ever that reliable in the first place. But his body literally vibrated with the most potent feeling of being lied to right then, and that was aggravating in itself.

"So apologize," Henry pointed out, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I _did_," Emma said, exasperated. "Do you really think I'd go a whole week without at least saying I'm sorry? Regina's stubborn. I wouldn't be surprised if she hates me by – why am I even telling you all this?"

"I don't mean tell her," he said in his 'duh' voice, ignoring the question. "I mean _show _her. Actions speak louder than words, you know. Bring her flowers or something."

Weirdly enough, Emma blushed. "That's going too far, kid. I'm not giving your mom flowers."

"I thought girls _liked _flowers."

"Sure they do," she assured him, nervously twining her fingers. "But that's the sort of thing you do for someone… you like. As more than a friend. Besides, she'd probably set them on fire."

"Well, what about –"

"Henry," Emma sighed gently, and stared at him with something akin to pity. Eventually her lip curled into a slow grin as she ran her hand through his hair one more time, dragging it along the side of his face before moving to pinch his cheek.

Henry swatted her hand away. "_Hey._"

"I'm not about to take advice from a twelve year old shrimp."

"I'm almost thirteen," Henry grunted back, pouting slightly when Emma simply laughed.

"You could be eighteen and growing chest hair," she replied, rolling her eyes. "You're still grounded."

"What? But I thought –"

"You skipped school so you can spy on me, kid. Don't even start."

* * *

That night Henry went back to his mom's. He did agree to spend the rest of the week there, even if there wasn't a suitable arrangement planned where he'd be tossed back and forth between homes like those kids with divorced parents. Since neither of his moms was talking to the other at the moment, there probably wasn't going to be one of those for a while.

He figured it might've been a good thing his mom was too angry at Emma to even speak to her. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and he didn't think his mom would even _want _to know he had skipped school that day to lock her in the Sheriff's station.

He shivered at the possibility. Anything Emma could do to punish him paled in comparison to what his mom would come up with.

"Do you wanna come in?" Henry asked once they were on the driveway.

Emma had parked the car down by the gates so they wouldn't 'disturb Regina,' according to her. He didn't bother telling her it was pointless, since his mom had a habit of waiting in lounge room and you could practically hear everything in the neighborhood, anyway.

Plus the walk up the winding driveway made his feet sore.

Emma hesitated by the steps, her feet faltering as she glanced up at the mansion ahead of them.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she answered with a terse smile and shook her head. "Maybe some other time."

Before Henry could respond, a beam of light spilled over their faces as the front door was opened, revealing his mom's figure leaning casually against the frame. She was still dressed in the clothes she wore earlier today, the only difference being her face; she looked more worn out than usual. Sadder.

But she was staring at him in relief.

"Henry," she greeted him warmly, pulling him in for a hug. "You're late, dear. Dinner's on the stove for you."

"Can Emma have some, too?" he asked before he could stop himself, not that he would have if it had occurred to him on time. He might've listened to Emma ranting on for half an hour on the consequences of snooping, but he never specifically said he'd _stop_.

His moms were two of the most stubborn people he knew. So if _he _couldn't help them, then who would?

He caught the knowing glare Emma sent his way, muffled by the panic that overtook her features when she met the other woman's gaze from the porch. His mom hadn't seemed to notice Emma's presence until Henry had mentioned it, but now that she did, the warmth was gone.

Her face was carefully neutral as she offered, "Is that what you want?"

She was talking to Emma, whose eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when she met his mom's gaze and anxiously fumbled with her hands. "I…"

His mom rolled her eyes. "Go home, Miss Swan," she said curtly, and turned back towards the doorway. "I'm sure the pirate must be wondering where you are."

The door was left open as she disappeared into the foyer, leaving Henry to lock up after her. Instead he turned to Emma, who curled her lip between her teeth and heaved out a sigh.

"She's still mad at you, huh?"

"Can't imagine why," Emma muttered wryly, scuffing her shoe against the ground. "I _did _kind of ruin her life."

With one last sigh, she ducked low and pressed a kiss to his forehead, leaning back only slightly with a small smile. "I should go. I'll pick you up from school tomorrow, okay? We'll head to Granny's."

She backed away, waving at him, and Henry had just enough to time to call her back before she reached the end of the pathway. "Hey, ma?"

Emma whirled around and cast him a curious look.

"She likes peach cobbler a lot," he said after a lengthy silence, earning him another bewildered stare. "Even though she says apples are her favorite. You made some for Christmas last year, so you can't burn it _that_ badly. And she likes her coffee black. Two scoops of sugar, but right before she goes to work."

Emma gazed at him for a long moment, and even in the dark Henry could see the bafflement wresting over her features, mixed with indecision. "Henry…"

"And she likes lilies," he continued without pause, shifting the strap of his backpack further up his shoulder. "But mostly those white flowers she sometimes grows in her garden. I think they have something to do with her dad. She just doesn't like to talk about it."

Grinning widely at the look of astonishment plastered over his mom's face, Henry nodded and patted himself for a job well done. Now all he needed was for Emma to actually listen.

"She's not going to forgive you if you sit around and do nothing," he added for reassurance. "And I think deep down you know that."

Henry didn't wait for her response; he was pretty sure he'd stunned her into silence anyway, because she was still staring at him like he'd gone absolutely insane. Shrugging his shoulders, he called out a quick '_gnight, Emma!_' and scampered back into the mansion. He smiled like a doofus the entire way.

Guess it was time for a plan C.

* * *

His mom was unusually quiet the next morning, more so than she had been ever since the Robin Hood incident. And for a second Henry inwardly freaked over the idea that everything would backtrack again and then he would _never _get his moms to reconcile.

But Regina didn't look up when he entered the kitchen, her focus settled on an aluminum-covered plate before her. He narrowed his eyes at the familiar glassware before it dawned on him where he had seen it before.

Snow used it every night for leftovers.

"Mom?" he started, trying to sound innocent. His stomach was brimming with excitement though. "Where'd you get that?"

"It was on our doorstep when I went to get the paper," she answered and continued to stare at the plate like it would explode any minute, before turning her gaze to Henry. "It seems your mother thinks she can buy my forgiveness with a collection of pastries."

"I thought you liked peach cobbler," he pointed out bluntly, and almost smacked himself in the process because his mom had never _mentioned _what was in the plate. She didn't appear to notice, though, instead sending him a look that said _that's not the point_.

"Can I have some?"

"Absolutely not," she insisted and lifted the plate towards the garbage bin. "I won't have you eating sweets for breakfast. And _this _will be going in the trash."

Henry wanted to stop her; he really did. He couldn't help but feel he'd messed this up for Emma big time. But then his mom paused just as she had the plate hovering over the trash, ready to dump its contents. Her brow creased with uncertainty, her lips pursing in the most conflicted expression Henry had ever seen on her.

Until she shook it off with a deep, shuddering breath and tossed the plate back on the island like it was poison.

"You can havea piecefor dessert tonight," she informed him, raising a slightly trembling hand to her hair. "And no more."

She looked kind of rattled, which didn't make any sense because it was only a dumb pastry. That was when Henry noticed the note sitting on the countertop, the words _I'm sorry _written over it in Emma's messy cursive. His mom quickly snatched it before he could read the rest of what it said, tucking it neatly into her pocket as though it were some sort of expensive china instead of a crinkled piece of paper.

Henry looked on in confusion.

"You're going to be late, Henry," his mom said, face carefully neutral when she didn't meet Henry's eye. "Have some breakfast before you go."

* * *

For the next several days, Henry noticed his mom was acting strangely, along with the little things that were different around the house. It wasn't all that obvious at first, since the mansion had been his home for most of his life and why should he care how the door to the guest bath was fixed all of a sudden?

Except… he was sure his _mom _didn't do it, and she sure as hell couldn't have hired a professional to linger on her property. Even after everything that happened, most people still thought of his mom as the Evil Queen, so there weren't many options when it came to repairs and people willingly offering their services. Besides, mom hated having strangers in their house.

So when he found the door fixed, and the porch swept, and the window in his room replaced, he knew something was up. And that something came in the shape of his birthmother standing at the front door.

"Ma?" Henry asked, scrunching his nose as Emma shifted uncomfortably on her feet. It was Saturday, his last day staying with his mom until he'd be sleeping at his grandparents'. Emma had been looking for an apartment for them both now that baby was born and there was no room for the five of them.

"What're you doing here?" he continued. "You're not supposed to pick me up until five."

"I'm actually here for your mom," she said sheepishly. "Is she home?"

"She's in the shower," Henry stated in wonderment. Did that mean they were talking again? "I can go get… is that _paint_ on your nose?"

Emma winced and hastily rubbed a hand over the white splotch on the bridge of her nose. It was already dry, though Henry didn't bother telling her that as he watched on in amusement. There were splashes of paint on her clothes, too, from the torn jeans she was wearing to the ragged looking tshirt she had on.

"Why do you have paint –" Henry began, before his eyes widened in realization and, raising a finger up in accusation, said, "It's _you_, isn't it? You're the one doing all this stuff around the house."

Emma's lips parted for a moment, gaping openly as she struggled with the right words to say before they were interrupted.

"Henry."

Both mother and son glanced up in time to see Regina descending from the staircase, regal as ever and dressed semi casually for once. She approached them with an air of indifference, but sent a smile towards Henry.

"Ready, dear?" she asked him, dropping an arm around his shoulder.

Henry peered from his mom and back to Emma, who looked like she could puke any minute now from nerves. He had no idea what was going on, but from the looks of it they still weren't talking; or maybe they _were_, and his mom's anger towards Emma hadn't dwindled at all.

"Miss Swan," his mom said in acknowledgment, nodding curtly at Emma. Henry winced. Yup, still fighting. "Interesting choice in attire. Not that I'm surprised to see you in rags."

Emma raised her chin. "What? Did you think I'd dress up and wear heels?" she countered, squaring her jaw. "You know why I agreed to do this, Regina. I'm not here to fight."

"Then why are you here, Emma?" Regina said sharply. "Because as far as I know, _this _isn't going to solve anything. Nor is a little painting going to negate the consequences of your idiocy."

"I know that," Emma stated gently, tucking her hands into her pockets. Any hint of defiance was now gone, washed away by guilt and sorrow, and a tinge of something else Henry couldn't make out. "But I'm trying."

The silence that ensued was strained. Henry glanced back and forth between his moms, who have apparently forgotten he was standing right there, and he found he didn't mind much. The silent stand-off was more than enough for him to take without fireballs flying.

"Fine," his mom relented after several seconds. "The back side of the house needs to be redone. Henry and I will be back in time for you to take him to your parents'."

Emma nodded in response and moved aside, allowing them to stride through the door. He noticed his mom stiffen as she brushed past Emma, her arm coming into contact with Emma's side, and she faltered and for a moment they just… stared at each other.

"Try not to break anything while we're gone," his mom stated roughly and proceeded out the door. Emma simply rolled her eyes, but they never left his mom's back as the odd expression on her face turned to confusion.

Henry watched on.

* * *

There was something about the way his mom looked at Emma that Henry couldn't quite put his finger on. It wasn't anger. Not anymore; maybe hints of it here and there, but nothing like the full-out rage he'd witnessed at the station almost two weeks ago.

He couldn't pinpoint it exactly… but it was familiar.

"Easy there, Henry," David warned from his side, directing the reins back into his hands and steering them left. "You need to have better control."

They were spending the afternoon that day at the stables – him and David, while Snow was watching baby Neal somewhere across the field. Emma had gone off to get her own horse, even though she'd only ever ridden one once before. She was really bad at it, and Henry couldn't find it in himself to tell her.

And his mom – he had no idea where she was. It had taken them all by surprise that she even insisted on coming in the first place.

"That's it," David said slowly, letting go of the reins once Henry got his footing down. His horse was more of a pony than an actual horse, named Buttermilk after… something or another. It was a stupid name, if you asked him.

"Think you can manage a trip by yourself?"

Henry nodded and gripped the reins tighter, peering over at David as they approached the stables again. "Hey, gramps?"

David turned, a giant grin creeping over his face like it was the first time Henry called him grandpa. It was easy for him to adjust once he realized pretty much anyone could be related to him at this point. Heck, he could've gotten used to the idea of calling his mom's sister Auntie Zelena if he wasn't so sure it would've given her a heart attack, or if Zelena wasn't hellbent on destroying them all.

And you know, if Auntie Zelena wasn't _dead_.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What do you think is going on between my moms?" Henry asked after some thought. He decided he needed to speak to someone else about this, someone that wasn't the topic of the conversation. And his best bet was David.

Beside him, David sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "What do you mean?"

Henry frowned. "I'm twelve, David. Not stupid."

At this, David laughed. "You got me there."

"So?"

David smiled at him, more soberly than his last smile as he steered them over, matching the horse's strides in silent contemplation. "It's complicated, kiddo."

"I think I can handle it."

He nodded, reaching up to squeeze Henry's forearm in reassurance. "I know you can," he agreed. "Regina's just going through a rough patch right now. So is Emma. It's not every day you blame the child of your former nemesis for stealing your chance at true love."

"True love?" Henry repeated, wrinkling his nose. "Robin Hood's not my mom's true love."

David smiled at him sympathetically. "Tinkerbell already confirmed it, according to Regina. I know you might find this hard, Henry. But pixie dust doesn't lie when it comes to soul mates."

"But soul mates are different," Henry countered, shaking his head. "You can be friends and still be soul mates. True love is what you and Snow have."

David gazed at him then, his demeanor both serious and concerned and Henry _hated _it. He hated being treated like a kid, like he didn't know any better and that gave everyone the right to think he was stupid. Like he was _wrong_.

He gritted his teeth and steered Buttermilk to the right, towards the stables, ignoring David when he called after him.

"I'm gonna go find my moms," he called back, and didn't listen when he responded; something about Snow.

He tore through the field at a faster pace than he was used to, sliding off to the side occasionally whenever he'd lose his footing, but he made it safely back to the stables without falling. Emma was already there, just outside the doors as she struggled with the horse saddle and attempted to climb on without the pressure of falling right back off. Several feet away, his mom stood at a fairly close distance, observing the scene like she was just waiting for it to happen and… yeah. That was so like his mom.

Instead of heading over there and making his presence known, Henry quietly slid off his horse and tied the reins to the nearest tree. Ahead, Regina had surrendered her position as a bystander, casually walking over as she approached Emma with some annoyance.

And part amusement.

"You need to relax, Miss Swan," Regina instructed haughtily, catching the attention of green eyes as she stood before Emma. "Sooner or later this horse is going to sense your fear, if he hasn't already. And then it won't be _you_ who will be doing the riding."

"Yeah. Thanks," Emma huffed, and tried to get her foot back onto the footrest; except she couldn't hold her balance enough to rise up and she was practically vibrating with tension with the way Regina was sizing her up two feet away. "Like that helps."

Regina clicked her tongue. "Believe it or not, that is what I'm doing."

"No offense, Regina," Emma said, craning her neck to meet the brunette's gaze. "But two weeks ago you magicked me against a wall and almost tried to kill me. Now, I get that you're a changed woman and all, but give me some credit here. I don't want to die on a horse."

"Trust me, dear. If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it by now," Regina insisted, and at least had the decency to look a little remorseful. "That being said, I said I was sorry."

"And I forgave you," Emma replied without pause, biting her lip. "Now maybe you could do the same with me."

Regina didn't respond, not that Emma expected her to. It was always the same deal whenever they strayed into the topic of forgiveness. Admittedly they were more on common ground nowadays, getting along as much as they could be when Regina still had her anger to cling to. But it was volatile, and Emma was going to do everything she could to fix that.

She had her foot in the foothold again, using her other one to force her weight upward just as the horse neighed and sprung on its hind legs. She lurched back and, before she could land on her ass, a pair of arms coiled around her waist, effectively stopping her as her back collided with a soft chest.

A strange flip in her stomach caused Emma to pull back. "What're you doing?"

"As I said before," Regina muttered by Emma's ear, her breath ghosting over her neck briefly as she added, "Helping you."

Emma's forehead wrinkled upward when she shivered involuntarily, but accepted Regina's help without further question. Regina's hand went to wrap around her own, and it was warm against her skin, almost soothing. She didn't let herself dwell on it too much as Regina shuffled closer, the force of her other hand pressing against the small of Emma's back and suddenly she was straddling the saddle.

"Bravo," Regina applauded dryly, taking in the sight with quirked lips, like she was trying hard not to laugh. "Should I get an apple in your horse's honor?"

"I have one in my bag over there," Emma pointed out, smiling when Regina merely raised a brow. "I came prepared."

With a _hmph_, Regina strolled over to the bag lying on the ground, first taking the apple Emma had wrapped in a paper towel, and then something else that had her sauntering back with an odd look on her face. In her hands she carried a small bouquet of flowers, white and slightly disheveled from its long journey from the flower shop, but otherwise in mint condition.

Emma felt her stomach drop at the sight of them.

"Is this a new trend I don't know about? Carrying flowers wherever you go?" Regina questioned.

Emma's mouth felt dry, her throat closing up in her attempt to find something to say. She gathered her words and weakly admitted, "They're… actually for you."

Regina's eyes shot up in surprise. "You brought me _flowers_?" she said quietly, her initial mask slipping into bewilderment. "_Gardenia _of all things?"

_Gardenia?_

From his place behind a gathering of bushes, Henry observed the scene intently, only half listening as Emma made up some excuse about this being _his _idea and the mix up when Maurice had picked out the wrong kind. Except Henry could tell she was lying. Well, not the notion that this was his idea.

But… his mom didn't grow gardenias in her garden. The flowers Henry had been talking about had been some sort of chrysanthemum, because his mom had mentioned them before as something she used to plant back in the Enchanted Forest. And unlike gardenias, didn't hold any gooey romantic undertones like those corsages guys give to their girlfriends during prom, or have some underlying meaning of secret love or –

_Love_.

Henry's eyes grew to the size of saucepans as he whipped his gaze back to his moms. Emma had already gone to take her horse across the field, but his mom was still in the same spot, peering down at the flowers in her hands in astonishment, and what looked like reverence. Bringing the flowers to her face, she glanced up then, and Henry followed her gaze back to Emma and…

There was that look again. The one he couldn't place and suddenly –

_Suddenly _it all made sense. He realized then why it was so familiar.

It was the same way Mary Margaret looked at David back before the first curse broke. Wistful. Pensive.

Longing.

_Oh man, _Henry thought, dazedly letting himself fall on the grass. This was good, he figured. Good _and _bad, since he did _not _expect this and now he needed a plan D. A plan D on how to get his emotionally detached, one-of-them-is-already-taken-by-a-pirate parents to fall in love with each other.

Sounds simple enough.


End file.
